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“Leif was in your office. What did you talk about? You told me that conversation was about Owen. But I want the truth.”
Gramps didn’t speak for a few moments, then he stood and Terra feared he would walk away without answering. She had no idea what she would do if he did. But he grabbed his mug and went to the counter. Poured more coffee and stared out the kitchen window. No doubt buying himself time.
“I’m sorry that someone tried to hurt you, Terra. That’s why I didn’t want you in law enforcement.” Gramps took a sip of coffee. “I’m not involved in whatever is going on here. But I think you need to recuse yourself and stay out of it. Your life could still be in danger.”
“What was in the safe? Tell me what was stolen.”
“I’ve already told you. Now it’s time for you to stop this nonsense. I think you need some time off. This investigation is getting to you.”
Terra wouldn’t put it past him to call her supervisor and get that for her. Gramps knew the man. There wasn’t anyone in this county he didn’t know. Plenty of people were on his payroll, whether at the trucking company, the granary, or the airport.
Gramps...
That was it, then. He wouldn’t tell her the truth.
One thing she knew, her grandfather was hiding something.
Terra couldn’t go into the office today and face the questions or the paperwork. Instead, she should just head home to see her cat and thank her neighbor. Crash on her own sofa and get some perspective. Terra texted Jack her plans and that she wouldn’t be meeting him at the sheriff’s offices today.
An email came through on her cell—Nells, the forest service archaeologist assigned to the artifacts. Nells had identified the pieces, and as Terra suspected, they had been trafficked from the Southwest—except for the headdress. Terra and Dan would work to return the headdress to the local Crow tribes and dispatch the rest through the appropriate channels, but they also still needed to learn the names of the intended buyers.
As soon as she closed her email, her cell buzzed. She glanced at the number. The museum? “Special Agent Connors speaking.”
“Agent Connors, this is Valerie Harris. You left a message on our answering machine that you had stopped by yesterday and asked for anyone with information to contact you. I’m the one who checks the messages. I think I’m finally ready to talk. I’ll be at the museum this afternoon.”
“I’m on my way.”
Terra pulled on a jacket and grabbed her bag.
Half an hour later, she parked on the street in front of the museum. When she entered, she flashed her credentials to a silver-haired woman behind a counter. “I’m here to speak with Valerie Harris.”
A twentysomething woman approached.
“I’m Valerie.” She glanced nervously at the woman behind the counter. “Maggie, I’m going to take a few minutes, okay?”
Maggie nodded. “Sure, dear. I’ll cover for you.”
“Is there a private room where we could chat?” Terra asked.
Valerie found them a room in the back of the museum.
“Are you a volunteer, or do you get paid?” Terra asked.
“I’m interning and get college credit. I admit that’s why I took some time to think about calling the police. Then you left that message, and I knew I should contact you.”
Terra was eager to hear what the young woman had to share. “I’m glad you decided to make that call. I’m here to listen.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, but I had a lot going on that day.”
“What day are we talking about?” Terra asked.
“The day the police came to take the knife—the murder weapon. I found that knife the day before. It was in the alley behind the museum. Seeing it there freaked me out. I thought that somehow someone had gotten into those artifacts—they’re my responsibility—without me knowing and then dropped it in the alley. Maybe they had wanted to return it but were embarrassed so they left it there. Whatever the reason, I thought that I’d messed up, so I put the knife in with the other similar knives and said nothing.”
Terra had suspected that the murderer had taken it from the museum and returned it in order to hide it or to mislead them.
“Why didn’t you come forward before now?”
She shrugged. “No one asked me about the knife. The police had it, and I figured it didn’t make any difference and—”
